Prisons don't rehabilitate, they don't punish, they don't protect, so what the hell do they do?
I have been studying how I may compare this prison where I live unto the world; Shut up in the prison of their own consciences.
Justice is that virtue of the soul which is distributive according to desert.
A just chastisement may benefit a man, though it seldom does; but an unjust one changes all his blood to gall.
The difference between tax avoidance and tax evasion is the thickness of a prison walls.
I wrote a million words in the first year, and I could never have done that outside of prison.
Federal prison, if you get any of it, you're going to have to do 85% of it. And the reason why I called it that is because I had a friend who got sent to the federal joint and his whole... it wasn't about him being in jail. He cried about the 85%.
Why would anyone expect him to come out smarter? He went to prison for three years, not Princeton.
When is conduct a crime, and when is a crime not a crime? When Somebody Up There -- a monarch, a dictator, a Pope, a legislator -- so decrees.
The public have more interest in the punishment of an injury than he who receives it.
The English laws punish vice; the Chinese laws do more, they reward virtue.
The uneven impact of actual enforcement measures tends to mirror and reinforce more general patterns of discrimination (along socioeconomic, racial and ethnic, sexual, and perhaps generational lines) within the society. As a consequence, such enforcement (ineffective as it may be in producing conformity) almost certainly reinforces feelings of alienation already prevalent within major segments of the population.
We don't seem to be able to check crime, so why not legalize it and then tax it out of business.
In jail a man has no personality. He is a minor disposal problem and a few entries on reports. Nobody cares who loves or hates him, what he looks like, what he did with his life. Nobody reacts to him unless he gives trouble. Nobody abuses him. All that is asked of him is that he go quietly to the right cell and remain quiet when he gets there. There is nothing to fight against, nothing to be mad at. The jailers are quiet men without animosity or sadism.
Prison, dungeons, blessed places where evil is impossible because they are the crossroads of all the evil in the world. One cannot commit evil in hell.
I sometimes wish that people would put a little more emphasis upon the observance of the law than they do upon its enforcement.
It is certain that the study of human psychology, if it were undertaken exclusively in prisons, would also lead to misrepresentation and absurd generalizations.
I just remember that disturbing feeling of walking into that prison, the complete loss of privacy, the complete loss of stimulation, dignity.
Fear can be like a prison. It is, however, a self made prison. Many are imprisoned by fear. No one else can liberate them from this prison. Others may inspire them but they must liberate themselves.